Not Alone
by ilovecastiel18
Summary: AU during TFP (though could also be considered a missing scene). After Sherlock smashes the coffin when he, John, and Mycroft are stuck in Sherrinford, John goes and talks to him. John fixes up Sherlock's hands and shows him that he is not alone. You might see some Johnlock if you squint, but nothing major. One-Shot. Rated T because I'm paranoid.


**Disclaimer:** Sherlock, along with its characters, location, etc. are the property of BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I do not own them, though I definitely wouldn't mind being on a first name basis with Benedict Cumberbatch ;)

 **Summary:** AU during TFP (though could also be considered a missing scene). After Sherlock smashes the coffin when he, John, and Mycroft are stuck in Sherrinford, John goes and talks to him. John fixes up Sherlock's hands and shows him that he is not alone. You might see some Johnlock if you squint, but nothing major. One-Shot. Rated T because I'm paranoid.

 **A/N:** I'm going to hate myself in the morning for staying up and writing this, because I have to get up early to go to a volleyball tournament, but it's worth it. I haven't written in a while, so when I got this idea, I naturally had to write and post it before I forgot about it. Please leave a review if you liked it!

….

Not Alone

….

In a flash, Sherlock had unbuttoned his suit jacket and smashed his fist into the lid of the coffin. Neither John or Mycroft had seen this outburst coming, and neither did anything to stop it. Whether from shock or fear, both men stood still and watched the man they loved most in the world smash the coffin to bits.

After a few moments, when the coffin was all but splinters, Sherlock turned and sat with his back against the wall and his knees drawn up to his chest. John, though he was utterly shocked by this sudden outburst, decided that something needed to be done about his hurting friend.

When John started to make his way over to Sherlock, Mycroft stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Let him be, Doctor Watson." Mycroft muttered into John's ear.

"He needs someone, Mycroft. And after all he has done for me, I want that person to be me." John whispered back.

"He needs to be left alone." Mycroft argued.

John turned to look at Mycroft. "I know that you have been there for Sherlock before when no one else has, but I'm here now. I know that Sherlock is more than a machine, and he needs someone to help him when he's hurting. I mean it when I thank you for all you have done for him, but I'm what he needs now. Wait in the other room?"

"You're diving into dangerous waters here, Doctor Watson." Mycroft replied.

"It's worth it."

"Mycroft sighed and slowly made his way into the next room, keeping his ears open for any signs that things weren't going along with John's plan.

John slowly turned and made his way over to his best friend, who was blankly staring at the dusty floor with his arms resting on his knees. John could see that Sherlock's hands were in pretty bad shape from their fight with the coffin. He kneeled down in front of him.

"Sherlock?" John muttered.

Sherlock didn't acknowledge John in the slightest, just kept staring at the floor with a small tear welling in his eye.

John slowly reached out and grasped Sherlock's left hand, noting the gasp that issued from his best friend as he did so. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his handkerchief, tearing it into strips with his teeth. He wrapped a few of the strips around Sherlock's left hand, then did the same to his right. The only reason John ever carried a handkerchief was for when Sherlock hurt himself, and this was one of those times.

When John was finished tending to Sherlock's hands (though he would need to clean and rewrap them later, if there was a later), he turned and sat down next to him, sitting in the exact same position. The only difference was that John was looking at Sherlock, while Sherlock was looking at the floor.

"I know this is probably a stupid question, but are you okay?" John asked quietly.

Sherlock didn't move for a long time. Finally, he shook his head minutely.

"Anything I can do to help?" John knew that he should be bothering Sherlock about the plane, but he couldn't bring himself to rush Sherlock through an emotional breakdown, especially when he had never seen one from him before.

Sherlock shrugged his shoulder. John sighed.

"I know it hurts, Sherlock. My struggles with Harry are no comparison to this, but I know what it is like to struggle with a sister that has a problem. I would never wish that on anyone."

Sherlock was silent for a long time. Finally, he spoke.

"I don't know what to do, John. She's messing with the people I care about, and me, and there is nothing I can do about it."

"She's doing that on purpose, Sherlock. She's trying to break you. Don't let her." John replied.

"Seems that's already happened." Sherlock muttered. He still hadn't looked up from the floor.

"Not necessarily. You just have to keep fighting. I'm here for you, mate. So is Mycroft. We care about you, Sherlock."

"Not really sure why." Sherlock muttered.

"You're my best friend, Sherlock. You have sacrificed your life for me on multiple occasions. You jumped off a building for me, you overdosed on cocaine for me, you even killed a man for me. How could I not come to care about you after all that?" John questioned.

Sherlock finally looked up at John. "I'm just a junkie who solved crimes as an alternative to getting high. I have hurt you in more ways than one. The same goes for Mycroft. I got us all into this mess…" Sherlock started to explain.

"And I am confident that you will be the one to get us out." John interrupted.

"John…"

"No, Sherlock. You don't get to argue with me over this one. Do you have any idea where I was before I met you? I was completely alone. I had nobody and nothing. I was useless to my country, unwanted by my family, and unable to live the way I wanted to. I've never been lower than those days before I met you, not even when Mary died. I was depressed, Sherlock, and even a bit suicidal as well. I swear I would have jumped off a bridge within a year had we not met when we did. You saved my life then, and you've saved my life countless times since. You saved me, Sherlock." John explained. "How could I not come to love and care for you after all that?"

"John…" Sherlock started to speak, but paused. He was unable to express all of the things he wanted to say in that moment.

"Come here," John stood and held his hand out for Sherlock, who grabbed onto it gingerly and pulled himself up. Instantly, John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist and hugged him tightly. Sherlock responded by wrapping his arms around John and pressing his face into his shoulder.

"I love you, you ridiculous man. And never think otherwise, no matter what." John muttered into Sherlock's ear.

"I never thought I would be capable of love, John. I was always told that I was different, that I would never feel things like ordinary people. But if this feeling that I have for you isn't love, then it must not exist. Because you are everything to me, John Hamish Watson, and I doubt that will ever change." Sherlock said this into John's shoulder, but John heard every word. John tightened the arms around his best friend, and Sherlock did the same.

After a while, Sherlock pulled back from the hug and looked down at John. His beautiful, kind, loving John. He didn't know where he would be right then without the amazingly loyal man in front of him, and he didn't care to think about it either. He may be playing a death game with his long-lost little sister in a state-of-the-art prison for crazy people, but he would rather be there with his John than anywhere else without him.

Sherlock felt John slip his hand into his own, and they walked into the next room together, heads held high and hands clasped together. He knew they would survive this day, as long as they stuck together and protected each other and Mycroft. That was all that mattered anymore.


End file.
